“The G-20 is the premier forum for our international economic development that promotes open and constructive discussion between industrial and emerging-market countries on key issues related to global economic stability. By contributing to the strengthening of the international financial architecture and providing opportunities for dialogue on national policies, international co-operation, and international financial institutions, the G-20 helps to support growth and development across the globe.”G20 Web Site

Countries with the most confirmed capital punishment executions in 2008:

1. China: 1,718

2. Iran: 346

3. Saudi Arabia: 102

4. United States: 37

5. Pakistan: 36

6. Iraq: 34

“The death penalty is the ultimate denial of human rights. It is the premeditated and cold-blooded killing of a human being by the state. This cruel, inhuman and degrading punishment is done in the name of justice. It violates the right to life as proclaimed in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.”Amnesty International Web Site

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;–then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

Sonnet on Fame

Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
To those who woo her with too slavish knees,
But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy,
And dotes the more upon a heart at ease;
She is a Gipsey, – will not speak to those
Who have not learnt to be content without her;
A Jilt, whose ear was never whisper’d close,
Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her;
A very Gipsey is she, Nilus-born,
Sister-in-law to jealous Potiphar;
Ye love-sick Bards! repay her scorn for scorn;
Ye Artists lovelorn! madmen that ye are!
Make your best bow to her and bid adieu,
Then, if she likes it, she will follow you.

(John Keats: 1795-1821)

Wine Women and Snuff

Give me women, wine and snuff
Until I cry out “hold, enough!”
You may do so sans objection
Til the day of resurrection;
For bless my beard they aye shall be
My beloved Trinity.

Lord Byron was a whining sissy compared to John Keats. Lord Byron never wrote about snuff. John Keats wrote “Wine, Women, and Snuff” Quo erat demonstrandum. Lord Byron was a sissy.

(please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music to this evening’s treatise. Falling outside two standard deviations, this treatise will most likely self destruct by dawn. )

Vexation: (n) What I feel when I hear surgical sales people complain about getting up at 5:00 a.m. to be in surgery or when I hear my MD friends complain about being on call. And if you choose a career that involves travel? You are going to miss flights and your days will always disintegrate. Vexation: (n)

Each of the above examples is a choice. None are examples of something a federal judge handed down as a sentence. None should be converted into crosses and thrown onto shoulders nor squeezed out onto a Facebook page for sympathy points.

Showing up to sell in surgical cases at 5:00 a.m. is a choice. Becoming a doctor and taking call is a choice. Accepting a job that involves travel is a choice. If you do not like your choice, toss the cross aside and make a different choice.

This summer is the perfect storm for missed flights. The number of flights has been pared well back, lots of slack jawed West Virginia families are on vacation, and business travel is picking up again after two down years. Add in all the bad Midwest storms because God is angry that the Cavaliers did not make it to the NBA Finals and what do you get? The perfect storm for missing flights if you travel every day for work.

Best thing to do when your summer travel gets trashed is to execute the following patented offense:

Step One

Find yourself a tasty tune to put on loop on your iThing. The one you clicked above there is a good one because you can practice throwing your rhymes. Moreover, this song is ideal for doing the modified prep while sitting in a chair in any airport.

Step Two

Choose a “happy place” funny JPEG. Something so funny that no matter how many times you look at it, it still makes you laugh like a hyena. The one below is my “happy place” funny JPEG. Feel free to adopt it as your own to save some internet searching time. You are welcome.

Marketing folks! The following are called “product line extensions” of the Photoshopped kitten with the foam animals chasing it.

Step Three

Figure out a “Plan B” and execute said plan expeditiously.

The gentleman below is Gerald, the finest cab driver in Ohio.

When my Dayton-Detroit-The LJ flight got moved three times then shot in the head this evening, Gerald got me from Dayton to Cincinnati to make an 8:25 shot in the dark flight home in 73 minutes flat. 73 minutes flat is a land speed record during rush hour that would impress Chuck Yeager.

On the way from the Dayton airport to the Cincinnati airport, Gerald and I traded off singing the two part harmony from Getcha Groove On while we discussed our beloved Cleveland Browns at length. Moreover, Gerald told me stories about my favorite basketball player, Ron Harper, from when Ron was a kid in Dayton, Ohio. We had fantastic discussions at 114mph on Route 75 because every blade always cuts both ways, The Random is generous, and every adventure is exactly what you make of it.

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Have flown true First Class across the ocean once: British Airways from San Diego to London in November, 2002. It was magnificent. Bathrooms strewn with rose petals and embossed with diamond encrusted mirrors. Bathrooms large enough for badminton matches or Mayan human sacrifice ceremonies. Flight attendants riding tame giraffes down the aisle offering a choice of Krug or Cristal champagne. Ice cold pilsner beer served by top hat wearing koala bears while trained flying squirrels glided throughout the cabin with napkins hanging from their little feet to wipe the dribbled caviar from our chins. It was magnificent.

The flight attendants not only encouraged us to use our electronic devices during takeoff and landing, they handed out signal jammers, tasers, and (pre-market release) Wii gaming devices to those whom had not brought their own electronic devices. Firearms and explosive devices (as well as comments and jokes regarding firearms and exploding devices) were permitted in First Class, although no one brought any. Shortly after takeoff, three Italian tailors appeared from nowhere and made each of us a custom fit Canali suit. True First Class was simply magnificent.

Change is hard. Since that flight, all other flights have been different and most have paled in comparison. Although I carry eucalyptus on all flights to this day, I have yet to again see the top hat wearing koala bear or taste his pilsner beer again.

Change is hard.

Please fill your mug with pilsner beer from the keg there in the back of The Attic and gather back at the carpet squares. We will toast a Persian change agent in a little while.

People magazine comes out twenty-three times each week and costs two dollars. The Harvard Business Review comes out once per month and costs seventeen dollars. People is populated with photos and the ASP per photo is .0004 cents. Harvard Business Review is populated with words and the ASP per word is .0004 cents. Each is different, yet proportional in the value provided.

The June, 2010 Harvard Business Review is all about managing change within your business. Many of you fly every week. When you are rolling through the airport this week, pick up the issue pictured below. Lots of really smart people and lots of really great articles on getting past that “that’s not the way we have done things around here” objection. The magazine also help with my personal favorite “that will not work in this market because this market space is different than any other market space in the universe.” Every business lesson works in every market space. Change is hard. Get over here. Give me a hug and go buy the magazine below.

Consider The Pope. Last week The Pope explained that even though the church hid pedophiles and might not hide pedophiles in the future, depending upon the plan that the church may or may not have come up with…………the church will still not allow priests to marry. The Catholic Church and I run fast and far from marriage, both for different reasons. Recently moved on over to a Disciples of Christ church in Pacific Beach where the pastor is married with three children. Unbelievably, Pastor Brian is able to love God, his parish, and a family at the same time. Going to have Brian call The Pope soon to see if he can change that marriage rule, or at the very least help the Catholics come up with a plan to change the way they hide pederast priests.

During that phone call, I am going to suggest that The Pope should hide pederast priests in deep, dirt covered holes in the woods of Wisconsin. Wonder what Brian will suggest? Back on point…..change is hard.

Consider Wile E. Coyote and his desire for a tasty roadrunner dinner. Mr. Coyote never changed his offense, consistently ordered the wrong products from Acme, and always expected a different result. The photo below never, ever, ever happened because Wile E. Coyote avoided change, regardless of the feedback loop.

Consider Charlie Brown and his simple desire to kick a football. Mr. Brown never changed his offense, consistently allowed the wrong person to tee up the football, and expected a different result. Mr. Brown chose to never change: all subsequent results were consistent with his choice.

Consider Frederick Douglass and his 1855 work My Bondage and My Freedom. Even abolitionists had a hard time believing that a black man could write such a moving, transformational masterpiece. A story of “a slave that became a man”, Mr. Douglas’s work changed the way thousands of white folks viewed black intelligence. While they made no one laugh like a hyena, Mr. Douglas’s work made people think and feel deeply. Two out of three ain’t bad.

Consider Maya Angelou and her book I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Ms. Angelou’s quote on courage defines the courage necessary for change: “Courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can’t practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage.” Raped by her mother’s boyfriend at the age of eight and choosing to remain mute until twelve, Ms. Angelou changed the way ignorant folks thought about black women and remains one of the most prolific black activists of this century.

Incidentally, the caged bird sings because it has a song.

Consider Somaly Mam. At the age most of us were entering sixth grade, Somaly Mam’s parents sold her into sexual slavery in Cambodia. She was beaten, raped, starved, and mutilated by men, spending the next ten years as a sex slave. After ten years of sex slavery, she married a customer, moved with him to France, and then chose to return to Cambodia to establish AFESIP. AFESIP (a French acronym for Acting for Women in Distressing Circumstances) provides shelter for young sex slaves, acts as a mentally rehabilitating safe haven, and trains these young girls with marketable, non sex slave skills like hairdressing and sewing. The Somaly Mam foundation continues to act as a change agent in Southeast Asia.

Consider the youth in Iran and Neda Agha Soltan. This month marks the one year anniversary of the green wrist bands in Iran. There is one Man with many faces. The Man has many forms and The Man exists in all religions and political systems. June 20th is the anniversary of Neda Agha Soltan ’s martyrdom on Khargar Avenue in Tehran. Those that chose to kill Ms. Soltan were ignorant enough to believe that they can stop change with guns. That single bullet to Ms. Soltan’s heart a year ago today changed the peaceful revolution in Iran. The bullet gave the revolution a face and a soul. Moreover, that single bullet ensured that one day the mullah would give over power to people of Iran. The people who voted out The Man one year and three weeks ago.

You still have that pilsner you poured way up there? Raise your glass in toast to those that embrace change and the magical mystical results that come to those courageous enough to embrace change. Even with all the uncertainty change brings. Raise your glass for Neda Agha Soltan and those that will be out protesting and remembering a brave woman dedicated to change in the streets of Tehran on June 20, 2010 and every day until The Man slinks away to the Elburz Mountains up north.

(please right click on the link below to open the suggested background music in a new browser window. If I ran today’s Tony Hayward Congressional testimony, all members of Congress involved would conga line dance into the hearing to this song. This song played really, really loudly. That would be fun.)

Were I not prison’d here.
My sorrow sore oppresses me,
For when I was at liberty,

I had it close beside me.

Though from this castle’s walls so steep

I cast mine eyes around,
And gaze oft from the lofty keep,

The flower can not be found.
Whoe’er would bring it to my sight,
Whether a vassal he, or knight,

My dearest friend I’d deem him.

The rose.

I blossom fair,–thy tale of woes

I hear from ‘neath thy grate.
Thou doubtless meanest me, the rose.

Poor knight of high estate!
Thou hast in truth a lofty mind;
The queen of flowers is then enshrin’d,

I doubt not, in thy bosom.

Count.

Thy red, in dress of green array’d,

As worth all praise I hold;
And so thou’rt treasured by each maid

Like precious stones or gold.
Thy wreath adorns the fairest face
But still thou’rt not the flower whose grace

I honour here in silence.

The Lily.

The rose is wont with pride to swell,

And ever seeks to rise;
But gentle sweethearts love full well

The lily’s charms to prize,
The heart that fills a bosom true,
That is, like me, unsullied too,

My merit values duly.

Count.

In truth, I hope myself unstain’d,

And free from grievous crime;
Yet I am here a prisoner chain’d,

And pass in grief my time,
To me thou art an image sure
Of many a maiden, mild and pure,

And yet I know a dearer.

The pink.

That must be me, the pink, who scent

The warder’s garden here;
Or wherefore is he so intent

My charms with care to rear?
My petals stand in beauteous ring,
Sweet incense all around I fling,

And boast a thousand colours.

Count.

The pink in truth we should not slight,

It is the gardener’s pride
It now must stand exposed to light,

Now in the shade abide.
Yet what can make the Count’s heart glow
Is no mere pomp of outward show;

It is a silent flower.

The violet.

Here stand I, modestly half hid,

And fain would silence keep;
Yet since to speak I now am bid,

I’ll break my silence deep.
If, worthy Knight, I am that flower,
It grieves me that I have not power

To breathe forth all my sweetness.

Count.

The violet’s charms I prize indeed,

So modest ’tis, and fair,
And smells so sweet; yet more I need

To ease my heavy care.
The truth I’ll whisper in thine ear:
Upon these rocky heights so drear,

I cannot find the loved one.

The truest maiden ‘neath the sky

Roams near the stream below,
And breathes forth many a gentle sigh,

Till I from hence can go.
And when she plucks a flow’ret blue,
And says “Forget-me-not!”–I, too,

Though far away, can feel it.

Ay, distance only swells love’s might,

When fondly love a pair;
Though prison’d in the dungeon’s night,

In life I linger there
And when my heart is breaking nigh,
“Forget-me-not!” is all I cry,

And straightway life returneth.

The Mind of Mully

Standing tall

By the side of the road

I fell in love

With the beautiful highway

(This one is dedicated to Tony Hayward and the tens of thousands of lives lost in the 1984 gas disaster in Bhopal, India. Bet India wishes they would have thought of getting $20B from Union Carbide’s United States money back then. Glass houses and rocks: pot, kettle, black. Guess nobody paid too much attention…………you got it, you got it)

Dwight Shroot is not a new character. Dwight Shroot is the reincarnation or some sort of new age clone of the evil Zachary Smith, MD from the hit TV series Lost in Space.

In a Smith/Shroot wrestling match, odds are that Shroot wins every time if the rule is no tap out. These odds are drastically different if Dr. Smith is able to surreptitiously reprogram the Robinson family’s robot.

James Joyce

In a Yeats/Joyce wrestling match, odds are that Yeats wins every time if the rule is no tap out. There are no poets like Irish poets because The Irish are God’s chosen people.

Odds are that James Joyce wrote the following poem about Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits, well in advance of Mark Knopfler learning to play the guitar. Mark Knopfler: accept no substitute.

Strings in the Earth and Air

Strings in the earth and air
Make music sweet;
Strings by the river where
The willows meet.

There’s music along the river
For Love wanders there,
Pale flowers on his mantle,
Dark leaves on his hair.

All softly playing,
With head to the music bent,
And fingers straying
Upon an instrument.

Odds are that James Joyce wrote the following poem about Romeo and Juliet, well after Christopher Marlowe wrote Romeo and Juliet.

I Hear An Army

I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging; foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the Charioteers.

They cry into the night their battle name:
I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame,
Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.

They come shaking in triumph their long grey hair:
They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?

The Mind of Mully

I can’t do everything

But I’ll do anything

For

You

“So I’ve spent every day since then chasing Amy”. (Silent Bob inhales from cigarette and pauses)